Say Goodbye
by Feygan
Summary: A pre-Buffy Slayer experiences her end. Death-fic


Title: Say Goodbye  
Author: Feygan  
Fandom: Buffy  
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  
LiveJournal: .com  
Contact:

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When she was younger the world had seemed so simple. Every day that passed flowed one into the next and she never had to worry about how bad things could really get. She had lived free and planned to die old with a million anecdotes to share at dinner parties.

Then she woke up with super powers and everything was different. Her life was not her own anymore. Her life was the Mission, and the Mission was to live fast, kill vampires, and probably die young. And it wasn't like she could send her new "gifts" back where they came from, because the girl that had them before her was dead.

Sometimes she almost wished that she was like the girls before her. They had lived and died for their duty, and the times in which they lived had allowed them to go out night after night and not think about what they were really doing. But she was born now, in a modern world where everyone around her was living in relative comfort and peace, while she fought for her life and their ignorance. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to have to think about what she was missing out on.

Her Watcher had trained her to believe that she was a soldier in a never ending war that could be lost at any time if she made even one little mistake. But the same man that drilled her relentlessly in martial arts and weapons handling was also the man that let her watch TV, that let her go out every once in awhile to eat hamburgers and dance in night clubs where no one knew who she was and what she might someday become. He treated her as more than just the Slayer. He treated her like she was human.

It bothered her to know that her life, no matter how miserable, was better than that of the girls that came before her. They had had no comforts and no recourse but to go out and fight, knowing they were probably going to die, but probably believing that it would be a more peaceful rest than any Slayer deserved. At least in heaven the fighting was over and they got to exist in a state of perpetual bliss, and even if there was nothing after death, they could at least rest knowing that their job was done and someone else would take their place.

But lying here on the hard-hard ground, she felt sorry for the new girl, that nameless, faceless figure living somewhere out in the world all unknowing. She felt sorry for the girl that was about to wake up with superpowers and a destiny there was no standing against. She felt sorry for some girl she was never going to meet, because she was dying here, and that new girl was going to take her place in the grand scheme of things. She felt sorry for the girl that was about to become the new Slayer.

Since she was a child, she had known that her life was never going to be an ordinary one. Even if she had never become a Slayer, she would have had to become a Watcher, because once she was taken from her old life, there was no going back. Her life had been all planned out from the first moment she was identified as a potential Slayer. But she had had a few brief moments of happiness, and she had held them close to her every single night she went out to fight.

Most Slayers held themselves together with thoughts of completing the Mission and saving humanity. Her purpose, though, was different, even if she'd never told anyone about it.

Every single night and every vampire or demon she fought against, she held close to the thought that she couldn't die too soon. She needed to hold on and live as long as possible, sparing as many girls as she could from the pain of being the Slayer. And when she finally died, she had to hope that the next girl would be old enough to handle her new role and that she would have some good memories of a different kind of life.

When she shifted a little, a sharp jab went through her stomach. Gasping in pain, she bit her lip, getting herself back under control before she started screaming and never stopped.

"Oh dear, are you..." The horrified voice trailed away as he got a good look at her wound. "Shit!"

Something like a smile twitched her lips to hear him curse. She rolled her head enough to see him standing there, his left arm clutched close to his body, obviously broken. "If you think I'm bad, you should see the other guy," she gasped out, biting back a moan at the pain talking caused. "Are you all right? They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"

He shook his head. "No dear, it's just the arm. But you..." He knelt down beside her, reaching out to tentatively touch the edges of her wound.

She hissed and pulled away. "Don't do that. It hurts." She licked dry lips. "I'm... I know this is it," she said. "Don't feel bad. There was nothing you could do about it. There were too many of them... but at least I won."

"Yes, you severely depleted the vampire population in this area. You were fantastic." His voice broke mid-word.

She lifted her hand a few inches off the floor, and when he took the hint and held it gently in his own, she gave him a comforting squeeze. "It's all right," she said. "You... you don't have to cry for me. I had a good run, but now it's someone else's turn to take up the fight. It's all right."

She barely held back a moan as the pain flared, jolting through her. She could feel her strength slipping away and there was nothing she could do about it.

As the blackness edged across her vision, she could sense her Watcher still next to her, even as she lost the ability to feel his hand or see his face.

Dying, she was dying. Even knowing that Slayers had a short life span, she had never really believed that it would happen to her. She should have been afraid of the coming dark, but she wasn't. She drifted in some strange mental state where nothing seemed to matter and the pain had slipped away from her.

Sudden tiredness jolted through her and she had no reason to hold herself awake, not anymore. All of the stuff that used to matter to her was somewhere else, while she was still here, but not for long.

_I wonder how the next girl's going to handle this. I hope she had better luck than me_, she thought, finally closing her eyes. It felt like she'd been awake forever, fighting so hard against the world and everything in it.

It felt good to finally be able to rest. To just let go.

Blood pooled out on the ground around the girl's body, which gave one last shudder and went forever still. The essence of the Slayer moved on to the next girl, and the old was largely forgotten by everyone but her Watcher, whose shoulders fell for a moment before he straightened them back up. There was no time for him to fall apart. He had to get his Slayer's body back to the Council and give his final report as _the_ Watcher. Then maybe he would go and get thoroughly pissed before handing in his retirement papers so he could spend the rest of his life in warm laziness on some island paradise somewhere, forgetting the girl that had _been_ his life.

He sighed heavily and pulled out his cell phone. He had to make the call and have his Slayer's body taken away to her final resting place.

_At least now she'll get some little peace_, he thought, finally letting go of her hand.

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=THE END=


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